For quite a while you can't tell you're living your life, you can't tell you're in it. You know you're alive, or whatever, you can see the sky and the trees and the birds, but you don't know where you are and that your days are passing by. Then, maybe when you get into your 30s, even though you're still young, you understand your life is moving and will one day stop moving, or whatever.
At this point, all I want to do is leave work, stop at my local Chinese takeout restaurant, and place an order with George. Sometimes I want sesame chicken, other times I want chicken with broccoli in garlic sauce. Occasionally I want pepper steak with onions. However, I always want it with pork fried rice, an egg roll, and a crisp can of Canada Dry. Then I want to park my ass on my sofa and eat. Then maybe I'll go and get an Oreo McFlurry. This might as well repeat every night, and I might as well stop exercising, and I might as well grow large and live out my days.